Amanda Summers – Copy editor. Sometimes, I harbor a deep desire to pour a bucket of nice, cold water on someone’s head. For the most part, this occurs when my nicotine-addicted peers find themselves incapable of approximating the distance of 30 feet.
At Linfield, smoking is prohibited within 30 feet of any building entrances or windows. I frequently encounter students smoking no more than three feet from a door, nonetheless.
For people with life-threatening lung problems such as myself, this is a serious issue.
I understand that it is a hassle to locate oneself appropriately to smoke, but I feel as though the inconvenience that diminished breathing capability causes me is of far greater importance. I hear people say they have the right to smoke, but don’t I have the right to breathe?
As much as I appreciate the often-ignored 30-foot rule, sometimes it just isn’t sufficient. Those of you who smoke may not realize this, but when you walk and smoke you leave a trail of carcinogens and irritants in the air behind you. This leaves everyone unfortunate enough to be walking behind you with a healthy dose of secondhand smoke.
As you swagger down the sidewalk, cigarette in hand, I am meanwhile attempting to avoid inhaling and simultaneously feeling my airways constrict. It’s good fun, truly.
At this point, I have a few options. For one, I can attempt to alter my route to avoid your toxic trail. Sometimes, however, that is not feasible. Linfield only has so many sidewalks.
Another option is to hold back a bit and desperately hope that I don’t get enough lungfuls of smoke to trigger a potentially deadly asthma attack. Have I mentioned that your smoking habit could possibly kill me?
When I do encounter lung assaults on the way to class, I have to pray to every deity I can think of that I will not have to whip out the dreaded inhaler. A few puffs from that thing and I’m worse than a seven-year-old child with ADHD who has eaten copious amounts of sugar on Christmas morning. I will be shaking incessantly and giggling inappropriately for hours, something I don’t imagine my professors or peers would particularly appreciate.
Yes, you have every right to destroy your lungs, the formerly healthy lungs that many people wish they had the luxury of having. However, I think that my right to avoid death by secondhand smoke should also be considered.
If it were up to me, and luckily for Linfield smokers it’s not, smoking would not be allowed within 300 feet of any building on campus.
Also, I feel as though flashing neon signs should be worn atop smokers’ heads. That way, other students can easily avoid exposing themselves to your leftover cancer stick perfume. As much as I love sitting next to you when you permeate the air with the stench of nicotine, cyanide, ammonia and all the other lovely cigarette ingredients, stay the hell away from me.
Perhaps next time you light up, you will chuckle to yourself, remembering the crazy woman ranting in The Linfield Review about smokers. Perhaps I will be behind you with a bucket of water. If you are smoking, I may assume you are on fire and take the appropriate course of action.